


mason jar

by jeongsa



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, a bunch of unfinished fics that i still think are rlly good, tags and ships updated as i post
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26893303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeongsa/pseuds/jeongsa
Summary: a treasure box of standalone drabbles/twice fics that deserve the light of day probably
Relationships: Chou Tzuyu/Son Chaeyoung, Im Nayeon/Myoui Mina, Park Jisoo | Jihyo/Yoo Jeongyeon
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	1. cardigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chaeyu. tzuyu's stuck in a small australian town and chaeyoung's stumbled her way back. elkie's here too

It’s barely 7 o’clock but the farewell party is a mess. Well, gathering.

(Dahyun insists that when there’s less than twenty people invited, which is practically the entire population of where they live, it can’t really be classified as a proper kick-on.)

Tzuyu’s leaning against a torn-up second hand couch, drink in one hand and food in the other. Some guy is adjusting the knob to the halfway-to-broken pair of speakers someone brought in for the night, and no one seems to care about the rubbish blaring out of it.

Tzuyu doesn’t mind how loud and tinny it reverberates off the walls so long as she can’t think anymore.

Elkie waves her over, wedged between a couple of girls she’d invited over from the local rural private school. They’re still in uniform, but their ties are loosened, girls and boys having their shirts untucked from their skirts and pants, a couple others in casual clothing. By the time Tzuyu’s reached them she’s almost certain she’s accidentally stood in a spilled batch of pink lemonade punch by the way her shoes stick to the floorboards.

“There you are,” Elkie taps the side of Tzuyu’s cup with her own, excitable. “These are the new friends I was telling you about!”

They stare at Tzuyu expectantly, and Tzuyu nods in greeting before it becomes awkward. They bob their heads back, mumbling their names as an offering of acknowledgement. Tzuyu takes a sip from her cup as their conversation starts up again, and just like cloaked magic, she becomes an instrument in the background.

“I can’t remember if I told you, but, Jaeho’s from the city,” Elkie practically beams, and Jaeho mirrors it. “Found out a couple of days ago. He’s in his second year of Engineering. How cool?”

“Super cool,” Tzuyu politely remarks, and Jaeho seems pleased, like any young man would be when he’s sporting the parental approval glow. “Same campus?”

“Sure is,” Jaeho grins, barely flitting a look in Tzuyu’s direction and directs back to Elkie with keen interest. It’s obvious he likes her, and he’s shameless about it. “Hey, remember that movie I was telling you about?”

“Which?”

Jaeho does an impression of the main actor and his signature expression, making a face that twists his otherwise handsome features into something ugly. Elkie laughs anyway, lightly hitting Jaeho’s arm. Tzuyu waits for Elkie to follow this up with a rushed explanation as to how she doesn’t really care for watching action movies and that she thinks they’re incredibly boring, but she just flicks her hair over her shoulder like girls do in the movies.

“Tzuyu, you gotta tell me honestly,” Jaeho claps a hand on her back, and she almost violently splutters the liquid she’d been drinking back into her cup. “How’d such a catch like Elkie go through high school without one single boyfriend?”

“Oh, shut up,” Elkie hits his arm again, but she’s flattered, and Tzuyu’s positive that her own cheeks are redder than the cup she’s holding. “Tzuyu knows better than anyone that I don’t have time for a boyfriend. Right, Tzu?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tzuyu bitterly says, sounding robotic even as it comes out. “Definitely.”

“You never know,” Jaeho lifts his eyebrows, and a girl sitting beside him, another second-year nods in agreement. “It’s totally different up there. No-one’s off limits. Not much of a dating pool in this shithole anyway, is there?”

There’s a chorus of agreement in the circle, and Tzuyu tries to swallow down the fake laugh with barely-diluted vodka mixed with chopped up strawberries.

Tzuyu and Elkie met in their 10th year. Elkie transferred here for her father’s job, and was the shiny new toy of the school for a good while. The common factor between them was that they both spoke Mandarin, so it was natural for the two of them to become friends, walking each other home and sharing lunchboxes in the courtyard.

Sharing quiet kisses under the bedcovers came a lot later, and they’ve never discussed it. Not even Dahyun knows. Tzuyu adapted fast because Elkie did all the work - she kissed her first, slowly, on one rainy night and Tzuyu just simply started kissing her back.

(It wasn’t her first kiss anyway, so it wasn’t that much of a big deal.)

Elkie pulls Tzuyu aside when Jaeho’s gone outside to pee on the lawn, and ushers her next to the couch they were standing beside. “Hey. You good?”

Tzuyu smiles widely, because it feels much less like a lie this way. She’s this close to telling Elkie she’s got to head home early for work the next morning before they’re tugged down onto the couch by a woman, the same one that had been sitting next to Jaeho. She wraps her arm around both of their shoulders.

“Elkie here tells me you’re not coming with us,” The girl frowns, patting Elkie affectionately on the head like she’s known her over a longer span than a few days. “What’s the deal?”

“Gap year,” Tzuyu mumbles. “I don’t know what I’m doing just yet.”

“Yeah, but, why stay here?” She scoffs. “Elkie really described this place perfectly. A total dead-end. I couldn’t agree more.”

Tzuyu looks at Elkie, who at the very least has the decency to seem guilty as she buries her head into the girl’s shoulder to feign intoxication.

“I’m just slowing down for a while.”

“Slow what down? Living here’s as slow as it gets.”

Elkie pipes in to defend before Tzuyu gets a chance to show her annoyance. “She’s just working at her Dad’s bookstore while she figures things out. She’ll probably join us in the second or third trimester. Right, Tzu?”

Right, Tzu? Elkie never even calls her by that nickname. Who is this person? It’s an odd sensation, seeing your best friend that spent the last week gripped by the anxious fear of not being able to fit in bloom into the next big social butterfly. When she’d cried about it, Tzuyu gave her one of the biggest hugs she could muster and told her she’d have a great time. It’s like that night’s melted away completely, like any traces of the nerves and anxiety she’d shown Tzuyu have disappeared without a trace. The person sitting beside her is the new and improved Elkie.

Tzuyu’s not sure how she feels about the development at all.

“Yeah, I get that,” The girl laughs, like she hadn’t been incredibly rude seconds prior. “That’s actually kinda smart. Damn. You’ll be mega-rich by the time you get out! You probably won’t even need government aid. You could rent one of those studio residence apartments that cost, like, $400 a week that the international students… all apply for.”

The girl suddenly doesn’t look too hot. She goes pale, and holds a hand over her mouth. Whatever shuts her up, Tzuyu thinks.

“Jinny?” Elkie asks, sitting up in concern. “Are you okay?”

The answer is no, because moments later, chunks of red vomit hurl and splatter all over Tzuyu’s pair of black denim jeans.

-

The line of passengers waiting to board the train headlined for the city spurts out in lines that all align with the doors that are waiting to board.

“I better go,” Elkie says, nudging a shoulder towards the cue. “Gotta get to the dorms at some point,” Elkie pulls Tzuyu in for a hug. “Last night wasn’t too bad, I hope.”

“It wasn’t at all,” Tzuyu makes sure to smile as she agrees. It’s shitty to make Elkie worry when she’s got the whole afternoon ahead of her, even if she wasn’t much of a class act friend last night. “I had a great time. Just sad you’ll be so far away now, I guess.”

There’s a wryness of Elkie’s smile that indicates she understands the lie. “Aw, Tzuyu. It’s only a few hours away! We’ll call and text as much as we want,” Elkie pauses. “Unless we both get busy, of course.”

“Of course,” Tzuyu swallows, and the line shrinks by the second as she pulls away from the embrace. “You better go.”

Tzuyu wonders if Elkie would kiss her cheek goodbye, if no-one else was watching.

“I better,” Elkie repeats instead, and she’s backing towards the line. “I’ll text you when I get there,‘kay!”

She doesn’t, and when Tzuyu’s finally back home and sliding her shoes off at the front door, she realises neither of them even said ‘I love you’.

-

Saturdays at the bookshop are quiet.

Almost every day is, but Saturday is to welcome the customers that don’t get to make it between school and work hours. Tzuyu frowns, dreading how disappointed her Father will be when he runs up the numbers on the till when the shift comes to a close.

Tzuyu doesn’t understand it. They have the house, money, food, clothes – but it’s not enough for her Father, not even with the second income flowing in from her Mother’s café.

It’s not difficult to understand why the shop is dead. It’s too hot outside. Everyone’s either in the comfort of their own homes’ cooling system or bathing in their backyard pools or the river.

Tzuyu takes this free time to pull out her phone and scroll through her Instagram feed. It’s all the same, girls and boys from school posting pictures of themselves at orientation week parties and mingling with their new friends. Tzuyu’s not usually the jealous type, but when she pauses browsing to a picture of Elkie in a makeshift toga dress with Jaeho’s arm around her shoulders, a foreign sensation twists in her stomach. She stares at it for a few more seconds before decidedly shutting her phone off.

Tzuyu’s own Instagram is inactive. No amount of filtering, cropping or hashtags make her situation in this small town look or sound any better. The bell signifying entry chimes, and Tzuyu slides her phone back underneath the counter ready to serve the next customer.

The girl pauses her stride over, mouth open as she holds her bag strap.

“Holy shit. Is that you, Chou Tzuyu?”

Tzuyu locks eyes on a mop of bleach-blonde hair, barely passing her ears. It’s got streaks of faded colours running through, pink and blue jarring next to the raven black regrowth spouting from her scalp. It’s that same face, same eyes, same nose with a slope Tzuyu could ski on she remembers from years ago. It seems a little tired, Tzuyu can’t help but notice.

God. It’s her.

“Chaeyoung?”

“That’s my name,” Chaeyoung smiles, sidling down onto the chair beside the left of the counter. Her molars still peek behind her lips. “Hey.”

“Er, hi,” Tzuyu stutters, still in shock. “How’s it going?”

“It’s certainly going,” Chaeyoung answers, crossing her legs. She looks around the room of bookcases, and Tzuyu feels like she’s naked. “Your dad still runs the place, I’m guessing? It looks about the same.”

“Yeah,” Tzuyu answers. “I’m on part-time.”

Chaeyoung stands again, leaning herself over the counter to bring Tzuyu in for a hug. Her hair smells like shampoo, and her sneakers tread against Tzuyu’s shoes. It’s over in a second, and Chaeyoung drums her fingers against the wooden top. Her nails are chipped with black polish, short, chewed down.

“Feels like it’s been forever,” Tzuyu dares. “Years, now. What have you been up to?”

Chaeyoung’s face lowers, just for a second. “Not much to tell, honestly. A bit of everything and nothing.”

“Nothing? After three years?” Tzuyu’s quick to amend. “Unless I’m wrong.”

“Three?” Chaeyoung sucks in a breath. “Must be. That’s a long-ass time.”

“I know.”

It’s a frayed end to the conversation, but Chaeyoung’s staring into Tzuyu’s eyes with a fierce intensity that tells her it’s not over in the slightest. “So weird. You still look the same to me.”

Tzuyu isn’t sure what to make of the comment. She’s had to change clothes sizing two times, buy longer pants from overseas so they don’t cut off at the ankles. She’s a skyscraper now, everyone says.

“Hmm, maybe not exactly,” Chaeyoung smiles again, patting Tzuyu’s shoulder, hard. “You’re even prettier. Didn’t think that was humanly possible. You’ve totally got a boyfriend now, right?”

Tzuyu doesn’t know what she expected. It’s not exactly like Chaeyoung can read her mind about the dreaded subject, not like she proclaimed when they were kids. “No.”

“They’re missing out, then,” Chaeyoung jokes. She isn’t blushing but heat spreads over Tzuyu’s cheeks anyway. “Alright then, my turn. What about me?”

Chaeyoung takes some steps back, pulling her already short shorts down her thighs and stands up straight for evaluation. Choppy hair, dark lipstick, dark circles poorly concealed. Tzuyu takes the sight in and tries to form the words.

“You… you look…”

“Amazing?” Chaeyoung grins. “Iconic?”

“Different,” Tzuyu says, and when Chaeyoung raises a brow, she rushes to say, “A good different. Like you’re a lead singer in an alternative band, or something.”

“Nice save. Sadly, not the case,” Chaeyoung tugs at the bracelets on her wrist. “But not to worry. I’m still the old Son Chaeyoung, a-k-a the best neighbour you’ve ever had, the Dragon slayer to your Princess.”

“I forgot about that game,” Tzuyu finds herself smiling at the memory of Chaeyoung with a foam weapon in their backyards. She never was the type of girl to cling to toy dolls as much as the rest of them. “You’d just look scary holding a sword now.”

Chaeyoung fake gasps. “And after all that protection I swore by? I should’ve let the dragon eat you.”

“Maybe you haven’t changed,” Tzuyu laughs, and can’t help the next question slip out. She thought she’d never see Chaeyoung again. “You’re really back?”

“Not for good,” Chaeyoung scratches the back of her head. “I’m kind of crashing at this one place. It’s not much, but it’ll do for now. I’m back, just for a while.”

Tzuyu doesn’t ask why she’s not living with her Mum, especially considering her own mother told Tzuyu she moved back to town with a new boyfriend last year. She can easily guess it’s a touchy subject, considering the way she’s adjusting her bracelets and avoiding Tzuyu’s eyes when she talks about it.

“There’s a new gelato place,” Tzuyu offers. Chaeyoung seems desperate for a subject change, and she perks up at the mention. “Opened a few months ago. Talk of the town.”

“You’re serious?”

“Deadly.”

“I’ll have to check it out,” Chaeyoung muses. “Any mint chocolate?”

Tzuyu makes a face, and Chaeyoung laughs with her whole body.

“Why are you here?” Tzuyu asks. “Like, in the bookshop. Need help finding anything in particular?”

“I don’t read anymore, not much time for it,” Chaeyoung mutters, and then her eyes widen as she swings her backpack around to her front to unzip the front pocket. “Shit, I mean, I love books! I read all the time.”

Chaeyoung pulls out a bundle of stapled papers together and places it in front of Tzuyu, clasping her hands and nodding for Tzuyu to assess. 3 months at a Bakery. 4 months at a supermarket. 1 month at a clothing store on the fringe of the city. Tzuyu’s met primary school couples more committed than this.

“I can keep it on file, but,” Tzuyu hates to be the bearer of bad news. “Dad’s not looking to hire anyone right now. It’s just me and Dahyun behind here.”

“Had a feeling you’d say that,” Chaeyoung sighs. “Already tried the chicken place across the road. This was my second-last option.”

“No luck at the rip-off KFC?”

“Nope,” Chaeyoung grunts. “I’m desperate.”

“I’m sure Mum would like the help,” Tzuyu suggests. “I’ll speak to her if you like?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it,” Chaeyoung pulls her resume off the counter and stuffs it back into her bag. “‘Should probably try next door first.”

The front door chimes again, a rattling of keys banging against the new entry’s palm. He takes one look at Tzuyu, makes a grunt of acknowledgement, then turns to Chaeyoung. “Babe, we gotta go, like, now.”

Babe?

Chaeyoung doesn’t move, or look at him. “Just give me a moment.”

“Seriously, hurry up,” The man replies with a sigh. “You know I have shit to be doing. 2 more minutes or I’ll leave without you.”

Chaeyoung yells out to him as the door swings shut, “But it’s my car!”

Tzuyu’s learned three things about Son Chaeyoung in the span of five minutes. One, Chaeyoung’s had a dramatic makeover. Two, Chaeyoung has a license and Tzuyu doesn’t. Three, Chaeyoung has a boyfriend, and in a flash of a five-second appearance, Tzuyu already knows this man doesn’t deserve her.

“He seems nice,” Tzuyu lies politely.

Chaeyoung closes her eyes, resting a palm on her forehead, exasperated. “Don’t… just don’t.”

“Did he go to school here?”

“Left early for an apprenticeship,” Chaeyoung says. “Does… odd jobs now, and things... Anyway, I should probably go,” She cuts herself off as if to decline any further questioning on the subject. “Say hi to your parents for me. Or maybe that’s too weird considering it’s been, like, forever.”

“They’ll be happy you’re home,” Tzuyu smiles. A piece of her is disappointed Chaeyoung’s slipping through her fingers like this – there’s a high chance she won’t see her face around town again. “I’ll let them know.”

Chaeyoung hovers by the doorframe, like she wants to say something else, something big, maybe even life-changing. She was always good at that, always knew what to say to make the world filter through a rose-tint.

God knows Tzuyu could use some words like that right now.

“Bye, Tzuyu.”

Maybe not.

“Bye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was gonna be this really big sad thing but i got lazy


	2. sunflower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> unfinished minayeon. a stranger falls asleep on nayeon's shoulder and mina is a shy lesbian

A stranger’s fallen asleep on Nayeon’s shoulder.

It’d be a non-issue if it was Mina, Nayeon thinks. Her friend looks tired after a long day, hands curled around her gaming device in the seat directly opposite. Her eyes are closed in rest from what’s probably eye strain, paying no mind to Nayeon’s dire situation. 

With a bony skull digging into her shoulder blade, Nayeon can’t help but think about how she would sacrifice her shoulder even for Sana, who never stops fucking wriggling at any given moment. Maybe even Jeongyeon, who’d rather be caught dead than asleep on Nayeon in public transport because she’s easily embarrassed. 

A random woman has started using her shoulder as a pillow, and while it’s oddly flattering, it’s still a little uncomfortable.

“Mina,” Nayeon clears her throat to whisper a little louder. “Mina.”

Mina doesn’t reply. Nayeon would mistake her for being asleep if the corner of her mouth didn’t give her away, curling into the tiniest of wry smiles.

“Wow,” Nayeon scoffs, nudging her foot. It slides up the cuff of her jeans to expose her graphic milk carton socks. “So you’re asleep, all of a sudden? Seems convenient.”

“Mina isn’t here right now,” She quietly drones, mouth transforming into a proper smile. “Try again later.”

“Sure,” Nayeon says. “But can you tell her she kinda sucks?”

“I’ll take on the message.”

“Mina,” Nayeon says, through clenched teeth. “What am I supposed to do?!”

“I can’t help you,” Mina’s back to her game now, too busy to look up at Nayeon’s puppy-dog eyes. “Politely nudge her off, or something.”

Nayeon eyes the head on her shoulder. She could poke her and she’d wake up, probably. The woman is rather small though, and if Nayeon accidentally shoves her too hard, she might fall off the seat entirely and hit her head. What if she wakes up in a bad mood, too? That’s a whole other mess Nayeon’s not prepared to deal with. 

“I can’t,” Nayeon quietly whines. “Give me another option.”

“I’ve got nothing for you.”

Nayeon huffs through her nose. The next few minutes of waiting aren’t horrible, just awkward. The woman’s head rolls as the train stretches around a corner, and Nayeon has to position herself to brace for when it digs into her collarbone. She’s amazed such a jolt didn’t wake her up. Still, their stop is coming up next, and Nayeon’s now forced to act upon desperate measures.

Gently and with the utmost care, Nayeon slides herself to the left, the woman successfully shifting off her shoulder without waking up. Nayeon frowns at how uncomfortable she looks once she’s stood, wondering if it would be polite to help her readjust her posture. Mina tugs once on her sleeve, however, and she’s prompted to step off the train and watch the woman pass by in the window.

“She’ll never know of our five-minute bond,” Nayeon sighs. “She’ll never know she lied on this beautiful shoulder. Isn’t that sad?”

Mina’s switch is in her handbag now, eyes downcast to the pavement as they walk home. “I’m sure she’s devastated.” 

Nayeon unwraps the lollipop Sana gave her in her pocket and places it in her mouth. “Do you think we’ll be bonded for life, her and I?”

“Could happen,” Mina plays along, not seeming all that interested. Maybe she is tired after all, Nayeon frowns. 

“You know, you never fall asleep on me,” Nayeon continues. “Not even on the couch. Am I not comfy enough, or something?”

“I can only fall asleep in a bed,” Mina says, that hint of amusement resurfacing. “You want me to sleep on you that badly?”

“I’m just saying!” Nayeon defends, scowling slightly at Mina’s light snicker. “Don’t you want that kind of life-long bond with me too?” 

“The truth, or a lie?”

Nayeon starts whining as she clings to Mina’s arm, and Mina sighs, but not in a way that sounds genuinely bothered. “I mean, you can fall asleep on me instead, if you want.”

Nayeon arches an eyebrow. “You’re offering for me to sleep on you?”

If Nayeon’s not imagining it, Mina’s head shyly sinks further back into her hoodie. “Am I?” 

“I have to warn you,” Nayeon says. “I’m pretty bony.” 

Mina rubs her hands together, both covered by her sleeves that are too long. “I’m probably not that comfortable to lie on either.”

“You’ll do just fine,” Nayeon coos. “You’re sure?”

“I guess.”

“Consider it done.”

-

Mina’s probably long forgotten the offer by Saturday evening, but Nayeon is a woman of her word, and she’s been holding out for the perfect opportunity.

Mina’s poised on the couch, handheld device reflecting shadows onto her face in a comfortable sweater, happy in her own solitude. Nayeon, having nothing better to do, inches herself into place and observes Mina’s animated character walking around on the television. “Whatcha playing?”

“Just messing around on Stardew Valley.”

“Is it hard?”

“Not at all. I’m just harvesting sunflowers for Hayley. She likes them.” 

“Picking flowers for a girl?” Nayeon grins. “That’s cute.”

“You can marry women in this one,” Nayeon has to be imagining the light flush on Mina’s cheeks. “Hayley’s harder to romance, though.” 

“Why do you want to marry her, then?”

“I must like the challenge,” Mina shrugs, then pauses as she looks Nayeon over. “Did you want me to do the dishes tonight?” 

“Done already,” Nayeon begins to yawn, leaning into the back of the couch. “Why?”

“You look sleepy,” Mina says this more softly, a touch of affection to it. There’s no suppression in how high Nayeon’s heart soars. “Did you want me to put something on to watch?”

“No,” Nayeon waves a hand at the game. “Keep going.”

Nayeon’s head nestles into Mina’s shoulder blade, and the character on the screen abruptly stops swiping the sickle against the plants to harvest them as Mina’s fingers move off the joystick.

“Um,” Mina murmurs.

“You offered, remember?” Nayeon glances up to meet Mina’s inquisitive gaze, confidence faltering. “Did you want me to move?”

“No,” Mina says quickly, eyes darting back to the screen as she begins to hit the buttons again. “It’s okay.”

Nayeon smiles against the cotton of Mina’s sweater, having fun watching Mina play her game for a while. Her sweet, natural scent provides just enough comfort to help her eyelids droop shut and drift into the abyss.

Nayeon couldn’t tell you the last time she’s felt so warm and comfortable, at peace like this, but she wills the wishful feeling of getting used to it to the back of her mind. Treacherous territory. 

-

“Nayeon.” 

Mina nudges Nayeon awake, who’s blinking rapidly into the sudden darkness of the room at whatever ungodly hour it is. Nayeon lifts herself up, rubbing at her eyes, and realises it’s not that late at all -- checking the clock on the wall, it’s roughly been half an hour since she knocked out cold. Mina’s still in the same spot as she was when she’d fallen asleep, maybe appearing a little more stiff than usual.

Nayeon settles back against the warm spot on Mina she’s created for herself. “Mmph.”

“It’s late.”

“But,” Nayeon moves her mouth off the fabric to protest. “I’m comfy.”

Mina swallows thickly, and Nayeon can feel the sensation against her jaw. “I can guarantee your bed is comfier.” 

“Doubtful,” Nayeon mutters, relenting so Mina can stand from the couch, following her to her room to continue the conversation. “In any case, you lied. I find your shoulder very hospitable. You’re a great pillow, Mina, has anyone ever told you that?” 

“You’d be the first,” Mina winces, pulling her sweater over her head to reveal the singlet underneath. “Don’t let Sana know.”

“What? Your shoulder’s not hospitable enough for Sana? That doesn’t sound right.”

“Because she’ll take your word and run with it,” Mina clarifies, sitting on the bed nearer to the pillow than Nayeon is. “And it’s not hospitable to anyone.”

“Really?” Nayeon says, the airy laugh she lets out sounding nervous. She coughs quickly to cover it up. “But it was to me.”

“Yeah,” Mina doesn’t elaborate, just slides her socks off her feet and pulls herself under the covers, legs laid against Nayeon’s back in the blanket in the dark.

Nayeon decides to steamroll over to the other side, thumping against Mina’s second pillow and closes her eyes against the sheets. 

Mina swivels to face her in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Your bed’s closer,” Nayeon hums contentedly. “You’re not going to kick me out, are you?”

Mina turns back over, and Nayeon already knows she’s won the battle. “Sleeping in jeans is bad for circulation.”

Nayeon breathes out a laugh, undoing the button of her pants and tugs them off before burrowing underneath the duvet. 

They don’t often sleep together. It’s only when Nayeon’s had nightmares, which isn’t recently. Nayeon spends too much time staring at Mina’s hair in that hour, how it’s illuminated in moonlight coming from the window. The whirring of the air conditioner above lulls her back to sleep.

-

It was a gentle prod at first, Nayeon realising she might be in like. She knew the first time they became roommates. Mina’s kind smile, her soft-spoken voice, her laugh, her quiet presence that Nayeon watches embolden whenever they’re up to mischief together. 

That was just the start. Nowadays it feels like a never-ending freight train and something else entirely. 

In any case, Mina is cute. This isn’t a rare thought to pop into Nayeon’s mind, nor anything she’d vehemently deny to anyone -- it’s simply the truth, not up for wide dispute.

The only issue is how Nayeon urges to act upon this fact. She’s positive her reserved friend wouldn’t react kindly to being smothered in affection while bent over a textbook, especially not by someone she lets in so closely at all times. It’s difficult to hold in, though, so she decides she’s satisfied to at least stand by the counter and watch fondly as she makes them both a meal.

Mina’s trying to concentrate, eyebrows furrowed as she runs her pen against the page of her engineering assignment. She pokes the cap of the pen against her cheek at points she doesn’t fully understand a criteria point, pushing strands of her hair behind her ears as they fall when she hunches forward. This is the point Nayeon usually asks if something is up, but it’s kind of fun to wait for Mina to admit it first. 

“I don’t get it,” Mina grumbles quietly. “What’s wrong with me today?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Nayeon rounds the edge of the bench, peering over her head as if she can be of any use to figures she couldn’t begin to try and understand. “Can you maybe message another student for help?” 

“No, it’s not that,” Mina says, sounding troubled. “I understand the content, I just can’t... focus today, for some reason.”

Nayeon’s about to suggest taking a break, but then Mina’s phone buzzes next to her binder and she’s smiling down as she checks the text message. 

Nayeon nods her chin to the phone, wondering if she could correctly guess. “How’s Momo?” 

Mina clicks her lock screen back into place, picking back up the pen. “Good, I think? She just sent me a really long string of emojis and a music recommendation.”

Nayeon lowers her voice, suggestive. “Need any help with that?”

Mina cocks her head to the side. “The assignment?”

“No, silly,” Nayeon laughs as she places down the cutting board, leaning in closer to whisper. “With, y’know… Momo.”

Mina’s confused silence transforms into wide eyes and an involuntary flush. “Oh, no. It’s not like that at all. We’re just friends.”

“My bad,” Nayeon is not relieved. (She’s not.) “You guys, like, text a lot. I just figured that maybe-”

“She’s got a thing for someone else,” Mina interrupts. A rare occurrence. “You know her.”

“Wait, is it Jihyo?!” Nayeon guesses. “Oh my God! That explains a lot, actually.”

“Yeah,” Mina hums, then before Nayeon can say anything else, says, “I like Momo, but not like that.”

Nayeon raises a brow. “I believe you,” She says. Nayeon didn’t know it was such a touchy subject. “Promise.”

“Good.” 

Mina stares back down at the pages in front of her, and Nayeon continues to cut up the carrots in the awkward air of the room. She steals glances at Mina from time to time, who’s become noticeably less fidgety and now writing her words in elongated form. Nayeon’s about to grab a saucepan to start the dinner when Mina is the one to break the silence.

“What about you?” Mina asks, in such a small voice Nayeon’s not sure she’s even speaking at all. “Is there anyone that you...”

Nayeon lifts herself from where she’s bent, laughing to will away that empty sensation in her chest and lie. “Ah, no. Not for me.” 

Mina doesn’t react, so there’s no reason for Nayeon’s heart to stutter and fall the way it does.

-

Nayeon should probably stop thinking of Mina so much. 

Nayeon leaves for her bedroom shortly after dinner, complaining that she’s tired and needs rest for her early classes tomorrow. In reality, she’s lying face-up on her bed and staring into a ceiling of glow-in-the-dark stars, mind wandering to the most dangerous place she could possibly think of. Mina.

She reasons with herself. They’re friends, for a start. Adding feelings into the mix makes everything ten times more complicated. Mina’s always been a constant, quiet, unwavering, solid as a structure built to prop up Nayeon like a wall. A small sensation that began as an itch mutated into a nightly routine where Nayeon lies in bed and wallows as the knots twist sickeningly in her stomach.

Another reason to bury all of this is that Mina could hate her if she ever finds out. She’s not exactly someone who can pretend to preserve one’s feelings. Nayeon knows it best out of anyone that Mina wouldn’t be able to handle it, even if she would still try to push through and let them remain as roommates. Mina would eventually become tired of the charade down the track, and Nayeon would move out, because it’s what’s best for the both of them. Right?

The worst part, Nayeon decides, is that she’s not sure if it’s better or worse that Mina doesn’t know of her feelings at all. Who knows? They could even be in the middle of purgatory right now. Nayeon can do her best to act like any other friend, but at the end of the day; Mina’s observant, not stupid. In every three-thousand replays of this scenario in Nayeon’s mind, Mina’s aware and says nothing in hopes that Nayeon’s feelings will wither away and die over time. 

Nayeon throws an arm over her eyes, huffing out a sigh. Maybe she’s reading into all of this too much. Maybe she’s selfish, expecting for Mina to eventually announce that she knows and be done with the rejection. Mina’s too polite for that, but Nayeon’s not ready for her heart to be ripped into shreds either.


	3. peekaboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeonghyo mystery/magic school au

Jeongyeon won’t allow herself to think about the Academy over the summer. 

It seems to be all she ever thought about, before, and it’s exhausting. Her first year memories of fumbling through her skill classes, making a few friends along the way were quickly replaced by newer memories that clog her head. The buzz about the upcoming ball, Nayeon’s graduation, Momo’s inability to hold it together _because_ of said graduation (Jeongyeon makes a mental note to call her as the thought pops up in her head). Jihyo still acts as the glue bonding them all together, introducing the younger years for the older girls to act as some kind of mentors. It’s a troubling responsibility, and Jeongyeon kind of wishes she’d stop spreading herself so thin.

Jihyo had introduced Sana to them long ago, too, but she never stuck around for long enough to make what could be considered a lasting friendship, unless being Jeongyeon’s mostly absent and inconsiderate roommate counts as amiable means of interaction.

_“Now, you,” Nayeon had remarked to Jeongyeon, fully robed up with her cap on, tears she wouldn’t admit to forming in the corners of her eyes. She’d just finished speaking to Momo, who Dahyun had escorted outside in fear of induced shock. “Enjoy this summer while I’m gone. I mean it - and for once in your life, do things for yourself, for fuck’s sake.”_

Jeongyeon thought it to be a vague demand. A bit absurd, or even a little cliché. To be honest, she’s mad about it. Even more so that she can’t contact Nayeon to tell her just how mad she is even a week later or tell her how much she misses her already, because she’s halfway across the world without a reliable phone number in the classic Nayeon style.

It’s an insult. Jeongyeon _can_ do things for herself, thank you very much - self-care is in the little things. She’s made sure to be waking up every morning to the only childhood cereal she remembers, accumulated specially for the occasion of her arrival back home (by herself). She has to hide it in the back of the cupboard or else someone else will eat it. The plethora of face masks at the recommendation of Mina have been doing wonders for her skin, but the biggest gift she’s given to herself these holidays is ignorance, and emptying her mind. 

Peace has been found in her a promise to herself - she won’t think of the Academy, and she definitely won’t be thinking of what will happen when she gets back. 

-

Nightmares of the lore are vivid, some recurring more than others. 

It’s not uncommon to dream of such things when you’re mixed with Normal and away for too long, according to school Council posters hung up around the hallways. It’s a conjoined effort to make the lesser magical kids feel more integrated with the pompous population of rich wizardly offspring that laugh behind their backs. 

Jeongyeon gets up in the middle of the night on the fourth day of peace, restlessly awake, bladder full - she _really_ shouldn't be drinking so much water before bed - and checks her phone. 

(It’s said to be one of the most difficult Normal habits to kick ever since the official interloping of modern technology into magic.)

Noticing a couple of missed calls after leaving it on silent leads her to sitting on the lid of the toilet in her old pyjamas for fifteen minutes, attempting to call Jihyo back multiple times, knowing the girl won’t give up until she answers eventually. It sucks that she can’t call Nayeon while she waits for Jihyo to get back to her. Glancing downwards at the tiles, Jeongyeon realises how terribly fitting it is that she’s got rabbits embroidered onto her socks.

“When do you think you’re coming back?” Jihyo’s voice comes through the receiver, cold, when she finally picks up. “Soon?”

Jihyo’s made it clear she’s not impressed by Jeongyeon returning home for the non-instructional period ever since she’d announced it when they went out to drink. Jihyo scrunched up her face at the mention of seeing her old family, needing to ‘ _connect to her Normal roots’_. Jihyo thinks that this is a load of bullshit and that they treat her like dirt. Jeongyeon doesn’t have the heart to tell her this time that it’s kind of the whole point - tough love might just be enough to spark the magic tingling in her fingertips again. 

“Hello to you too,” Jeongyeon palms at her forehead to brush away the wisps of her overgrown fringe. “End of the summer. I told you when my leave pass got approved, didn’t I?”

“Right.”

Jeongyeon senses the agitation. “It’s late. What's up?”

“Momo is a wreck,” Jihyo deadpans, as if she was waiting for Jeongyeon to prompt it. “You have no idea. She only fell asleep just now - I had to put on music to make her fall asleep.”

“Ah. I figured -” Jeongyeon swallows a large serving of her guilt before continuing, “- as such. She’s... never been good about confronting this sort of thing. Nayeon leaving's hit her the hardest. We just have to be there for her, I think.”

_But you’re not there right now, are you?_

“Jeongyeon,” Jihyo sounds somewhat apprehensive, different to Jeongyeon’s expectation of receiving some irritation, perhaps even impatience back. “Have you spoken to her at all?” 

“She won’t answer when I call, so I’ve left a few messages,” It’s much worse said aloud, Jeongyeon quickly realises, the sickening feeling of a deep-settled discomfort in her stomach. Her feet shift on the tiles as she fidgets at the disturbing image of Momo, ignoring calls, curled up under her duvet. “I was going to call her before I went to sleep again tonight, but I thought I’d give it a rest before I try again.”

“Right,” Jihyo comes off a little out of breath in her response. “You haven’t spoken to her whatsoever since the beginning of the break? At all?”

“Not since the previous Friday,” Jeongyeon confirms, confusion colouring her tone. “Why?” 

“ _Shit_ ,” Jihyo abruptly hisses, and the metallic clang of keys hitting the floorboards resonates through the receiver. Jeongyeon’s eyes are now wide after she’s remained sitting still, thighs cold against the lid of the toilet, letting them rest in exhaustion of the conversation. “Just, wait a sec, Jeong. I have to put the phone under my arm.”

“You - _what_? Okay.”

A muffled noise at the other end of the phone ensures that the phone was indeed clutched under the skin of her armpit, causing Jeongyeon to pull the device away from her ear momentarily. Watching the call duration screen tick past a minute feels a little eerie, like something’s not quite right.

“You there?” comes through the earpiece. Jeongyeon places it back to her ear, slowly, waiting for whatever Jihyo clearly has to say to crumble.

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“Good,” Jihyo says drily, and there’s a prolonged moment of silence before she speaks again, correcting her insincerity. “Jeong... I’m sorry to call you like this, really, I am. I know you wanted the holiday left alone.”

“Please, Jihyo. You know you can call me whenever you want,” Jeongyeon murmurs, a little anxious herself at the growing eeriness of the phone call. Jeongyeon’s tremors can be heard as she lowers her voice. “I’ll always have time for you. You know that.”

The affectionate confession is lost on the rattling from the other end of the phone line - then, the calculated closing of a door, louder than it should be if Jeongyeon’s able to hear it. It’s a rickety doorknob that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than the headmistress’ office - it’s how she marks her announced presence in the hallways for unsolicited criticism. Her stomach lurches at the thought of what would be causing Jihyo to traipse the dorms this late of a night-time, especially when it’s the nasty matron in charge of watching over the student body rostered on a Friday night. It’s perfectly within Jihyo’s range to be secretive, sneaking into such a forbidden area let alone with her privileges as Head Girl at stake - something’s clearly up. 

“Stay on the line,” Jihyo orders. “Don’t hang up.”

“Jihyo,” Jeongyeon gets onto her feet, greeted by the cold tiles of the bathroom as she slides the door to get to the sink. “I said I’d call Momo in the morning.”

“It’s… not about that,” Jihyo carefully replies. “It’s something else. I think I fucked up.”

“Wait a second,” Jeongyeon presses the phone closer to her ear, exiting the bathroom quickly now, almost slipping as she’s scurrying back to her bedroom. It’s proving to be less appropriate of a conversation to be held in the shared bathroom next to her sister’s slumber next door. “What could you have done that’s _this_ bad?”

“Jeongyeon, stop. Listen. I was wondering if she’d spoken to you,” Jihyo explains, “Because she won’t speak to me.”

“So what exactly did you do?”

Jihyo pauses again, and it’s too long, too long for Jeongyeon’s chest that’s about to give out from the gnawing anxiety Jihyo’s created from what could’ve been a simplistic warning call.

“Fuck,” Jeongyeon hisses. “Can you answer me? You’re about to give me a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry, _sorry_ , Jesus,” Jihyo almost pants the words out. “You just - it’s hard, okay? Everything is happening at once, I have to be quiet."

“ _Jihyo_.” 

More rummaging, like the shuffling of papers in a filing cabinet, and just like that, Jihyo is distracted, immersed within her personal mission Jeongyeon can’t figure out without context. 

“Shit,” Jihyo curses, and there’s a loud smack against the table, and the hair raises on Jeongyeon’s skin. “ _Shit_ . It’s not here. It should _be_ here.”

“Jihyo,” Jeongyeon’s feeble call of her friends’ name triggers silence on the other end of the line, again. "Seriously?"

“I knew it,” Jihyo finally murmurs. “The file is gone.”

Jeongyeon frowns, then shakes her head to will the weird feeling in the pit of her stomach away. “Why would you be looking for a file in the middle of the night? They’ll take your hall pass away,” Jihyo’s still rummaging around and too preoccupied to answer, so Jeongyeon adds, “And why does any of this concern Momo, exactly?”

“Sana never leaves for the holidays,” Jihyo says, “You know that, right?”

“Well, yeah. She's my roommate,” Jeongyeon frowns, and then it registers in a wave of confusion in Jeongyeon's chest. “Hold on. Sana... left?” 

“I saw her. Suitcase packed, leaving quietly late at night, right after you left,” Jihyo says, trying to keep quiet. “She wouldn’t listen to me calling out her name. I left it, but Momo’s called her, and nothing. Nothing, Jeongyeon.” Jihyo breathes heavily into the receiver, and it comes out on the other side crackly, eerie, and Jihyo’s almost whispering now. “Radio silence."

Jeongyeon's eyes flit from tile to tile before retreating to her room. "She never ignores Momo."

"It’s like she’s disappeared," Jihyo sucks in a breath, exasperated. "I don’t - I don’t even think she attends The Academy anymore.”

Jeongyeon’s fingers clutch the plush fabric of her pillow after she’s collapsed onto it, the edges of her smartphone digging into the shell of her ear, breathing deeply into the fabric. “Fuck.”

“ _Fuck_ is right,” Jihyo says. “Jeongyeon?

"Yeah?"

Jihyo's voice is small. "I think something’s wrong.” 

Although Jeongyeon doesn’t want to admit it to herself - it’s true. It’s not Sana’s usual disappearing act in the middle of the night, slipping out when she thinks Jeongyeon is asleep - it’s holiday season, and everyone knows Sana doesn’t have a family to go home to. She’s also Momo’s friend, and there’s an obligation here to investigate what’s going on, somehow. Whatever this is, it doesn't feel right. 

“The master key’s in the drawer, Mistress keeps it in there and thinks I have no idea,” Jihyo murmurs, hesitant. Such a conversation could have her expelled if overheard. “Should I…” 

"Do it," Jeongyeon cuts her off. “Check the room.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and then jeonghyo go on a brave magical mission to find sana basically and... wag school a little... (they're cool kids)


End file.
